My Old Dog
When I came home today, my dog could not lift herself to stand. And when I lifted her, she kept falling. Finally, I got her outside where the ground gave her traction and she could stand and then walk carefully.
My old dog, once the youngest, now a solitaire and I went berrying then. Her hind legs could not support her very well but in a short time of practice up and down the driveway, she learned to think of them as a sort of stiff double legged tripod rather than the freely moving parts of her two front legs.
She could balance herself just so between the two back posts that were once the graceful limbs of a dog-gazelle, to negotiate walking. She fell several times. Or more accurately, the tripod collapsed and then I had to lift her back up again under her skinny old lady rib cage.
Most of the blueberries are gone now. There was only one runty huckleberry and no raspberries at all. The grapes are nearly all spoiled by the unseasonable rain we had all Summer.
We walked to the studio. In the studio, she lay down for a while on the mat and then went back out to doze in the soft meadow grasses at the edge of the garden. I had nothing to do in the studio because I am waiting for the first layer to dry & to lay down another layer of gilding on my map painting, but after I'd picked a few berries, my dog had clearly indicated she wanted us to go down there. She did that by starting down the hill and turning back to see if I was following. She kept doing that till we got to the studio. So after she had lain down in the garden, I sat on the stoop and watched her pleasure in the green fragrance and gentle bed she had made.
At last, it was getting cool and we came back up the hill. Usually she trots back and forth across the drive but today she stayed close behind my footsteps, as though she believed I could make the path easier, as tho we were walking through deep snow rather than fresh cut grass that has overtaken the gravel laid down years ago. She only fell once or twice and was very clearly proud of that accomplishment.
Inside, I hoisted her onto the couch, where she avidly watched me read the Sunday Times until I turned out the light and went upstairs. Tomorrow, we will go together to the Vet. I hope to find a medication she might take to ease her arthritic elderly bones.
My old dog, once the youngest, now a solitaire and I went berrying then. Her hind legs could not support her very well but in a short time of practice up and down the driveway, she learned to think of them as a sort of stiff double legged tripod rather than the freely moving parts of her two front legs.
She could balance herself just so between the two back posts that were once the graceful limbs of a dog-gazelle, to negotiate walking. She fell several times. Or more accurately, the tripod collapsed and then I had to lift her back up again under her skinny old lady rib cage.
Most of the blueberries are gone now. There was only one runty huckleberry and no raspberries at all. The grapes are nearly all spoiled by the unseasonable rain we had all Summer.
We walked to the studio. In the studio, she lay down for a while on the mat and then went back out to doze in the soft meadow grasses at the edge of the garden. I had nothing to do in the studio because I am waiting for the first layer to dry & to lay down another layer of gilding on my map painting, but after I'd picked a few berries, my dog had clearly indicated she wanted us to go down there. She did that by starting down the hill and turning back to see if I was following. She kept doing that till we got to the studio. So after she had lain down in the garden, I sat on the stoop and watched her pleasure in the green fragrance and gentle bed she had made.
At last, it was getting cool and we came back up the hill. Usually she trots back and forth across the drive but today she stayed close behind my footsteps, as though she believed I could make the path easier, as tho we were walking through deep snow rather than fresh cut grass that has overtaken the gravel laid down years ago. She only fell once or twice and was very clearly proud of that accomplishment.
Inside, I hoisted her onto the couch, where she avidly watched me read the Sunday Times until I turned out the light and went upstairs. Tomorrow, we will go together to the Vet. I hope to find a medication she might take to ease her arthritic elderly bones.
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